


Rescue Dive

by BrighteyedJill



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Dissociation, Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Toys, Sub Bucky Barnes, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4260036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrighteyedJill/pseuds/BrighteyedJill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A press conference about the Winter Soldier sends Bucky sinking to a dark place, and it's up to Steve to bring him out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescue Dive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thescottishwrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescottishwrite/gifts).



Flashes. Constant shouting. Obstacles between him and the exits. Room temperature exceeding optimal parameters. The sound of Romanoff’s voice over the microphone. Bucky shifted to check his weapons, only to remember that he hadn’t been allowed any for this outing. He knew why. It had all been explained in advance. Steve always explained these things in advance. The press had to be told about the Winter Soldier. “Controlling the spin,” Potts had said. 

Less than three meters away, a man screamed Bucky’s name over and over, waving a recorder at him. There were too many targets. Nearest egress was the window past the bank of cameras. Ten stories up, injuries possible, but acceptable. He couldn’t leave on his own. Had to get Steve out. Steve. 

In the chair beside him, Steve shifted without looking. His hand reached out and caught Bucky by the wrist, warm flesh on cold metal. Fingers wrapped around his arm like a cuff. Steve’s thumb pressed hard at the center, above Bucky’s sleeve where the metal was bare. 

That signal meant obey. Not that he must obey. Steve had explained that, too. Bucky could obey, if he wanted Steve to take charge. This mission was deteriorating rapidly. Bucky needed assistance. He turned his hand to twine his fingers with Steve’s, signaling agreement, and waited for further orders.  
\--

Steve kept hold of his wrist through the elevator ride at the Tower. Romanoff saw the signal, but did not comment. She got off on her floor, leaving them alone. Steve turned to Bucky, grabbed his other wrist. It felt balanced. 

“Bucky?”

“I’m…” He should deliver a report. He knew how to respond appropriately to simple social cues. “There’s a problem.”

“Yeah, got that.” The elevator pinged. Steve tugged Bucky onto their floor. “Jarvis, security protocol DUMBO, please.” 

“Yes, sir.” Blinds descended, blocking out daylight. The elevator door thudded closed. The communication screen flashed white once, then dimmed. Escape routes were being eliminated.

With a firm tug, Steve led Bucky further into their living space. Bucky’s vitals were still elevated, his adrenaline rushing. His training dictated he should take decisive action, neutralize apparent threats. Steve. No, not a threat.

Steve’s hand braceleting Bucky’s wrist felt right. Bucky wouldn’t have to take decisive action now, because he had decided to let Steve do that. 

“Bucky?” Steve ducked his head to make eye contact. “I’m guessing you need a break. Is that right?”

Bucky nodded. His skin felt tight with the need to hit something, to feel bone crunch under his hand. His hands clenched, missing the feel of his knives. He was only half here. The rest of him was pulling a trigger, watching through the scope as the man with the recorder, the one yelling his name became a streak of brains on the pavement.

“Bucky.” Steve’s voice sounded far away. “You understand the protocol. If you want me to stop, what’s the signal word?”

“Stop,” Bucky reported. Looking at Steve felt like looking up from underwater. This was not an amphibious mission. He needed assistance now. “I’m ready.”  
\--

Being secured to Steve’s bed was not like being bound to a medical examination table. Steve’s bed felt soft beneath his bare skin. It smelled of Steve instead of disinfectant. The restraints that held his wrists and ankles were more like guides, Steve had explained. The rope would break if he expended sufficient effort, but otherwise it would remind Bucky where Steve wanted him. Bucky hadn’t broken the restraints yet.

The thick blindfold that covered his eyes and the heavy earmuffs that dampened his hearing were not restraints. It wasn’t like the muzzle, meant to protect others from him. These things protected Bucky from the outside world. If Steve had decided that Bucky didn’t need to see or hear for now, that meant Bucky did not have to assess the information that had been slicing into his awareness the since the press conference. Steve had decided it was not important. 

What was important was the feel of Steve’s hands on his body. His touch felt warm on Bucky’s skin. The sensation of Steve’s fingers pushing into him spilled into the squeeze of Steve’s fist wrapped around Bucky’s cock. That consumed all of his attention. The memories of confusion and danger that he had been carrying fell away behind him as he dove.  
\--

The toy inside him vibrated. It echoed the trembling of muscles that Bucky couldn’t prevent. He didn’t need to prevent it. He knew because Steve stroked his forehead and mouthed kind words against the skin of his shoulder. He didn’t need to decide what to do, because Steve would make it right.

Steve wiped his fingers through the still-warm semen on Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s semen. He had come more than once, he knew, but he had not counted. It didn’t matter. It might go on forever, or it might stop. He didn’t need to know. 

Steve’s hand on his over-sensitive cock pushed out a sound he felt in his chest but couldn’t hear. His hips rocked up, caught between the stimulation the toy provided and the pleasurable agony of Steve’s hand. Nothing existed but the sensations. Every one of his muscles was wrung out, every nerve aflame. 

This time, as Bucky felt another climax approach, Steve pressed his mouth down around Bucky, swallowing around him. He tipped his head back, gulped in air, and surrendered.  
\--

“Buck. Bucky.”

Bucky drifted up from sleep to find Steve lying beside him, brushing his fingers through Bucky’s tangled hair. His limbs felt heavy, his strength drained. He blinked down at himself to see that someone had cleaned him and dressed him. Sleep pants, t-shirt. Was it night?

“Bucky?”

Though his reactions were sluggish, Bucky managed to fix his attention on Steve’s clear blue eyes. “I’m here.”

“Just checking. You all right?”

Bucky assessed. He felt tired. Exhausted. But calm. His mind felt ordered and narrow again: a logical system he knew how to navigate. He remembered the press conference, the overload. He groaned. “That could have gone better.” 

“Yeah.” Steve smiled at that. “But it could have gone worse.”

“Much worse.” Bucky frowned at the memory of spiraling into old patterns, of not knowing how to stop the slide. Then he felt Steve’s hand around his wrist again, anchoring him. “If not for you.”

“Glad I could help.” Steve nudged a thigh in between Bucky’s legs and leaned closer. “I mean, it’s not exactly a chore.”

“Shut up.” Bucky grabbed Steve by the neck and drew him in for a thorough kiss. When they parted for breath, Bucky said, “Thanks for coming after me.”

“Always.” Steve brushed another kiss against Bucky’s cheek. “Always.”


End file.
